Samson
by leeleea
Summary: Ste offers support to the McQueen Family during a trying time.


Ste sat on the McQueen sofa twirling the paper crane Leah had made, and insisted he bring with him ,between his hands.

The telly was on, but he had never been much for football. He briefly glanced out the window, it was a beautiful autumn day, a beautiful day just like it had been a week earlier when he had a chance encounter with Myra McQueen.

He had been on his way back from a weekend visiting his children, the day had been gorgeous. The sky was crystal blue , the colors of autumn: gold, red, orange, brown, had looked extra brilliant,and the air just perfect, a compromise between the heat of summer and the chills of winter.

He had been thinking about how happy he was.

For the first time in a long time, possibly ever, he was happy, truly happy. The happiness he felt wasn't the kind he had to convince himself of, or hide for fear of losing it, his happiness was one born of a soul a peace.

Ste had finally come to terms with his HIV diagnosis, it wasn't a death sentence, it wasn't a punishment, and it wasn't an excuse to behave recklessly.

Yes he was ill, but he was also alive, and so he had decided he was going to live. He was going to live well.

Ste's first step in living well was getting clean, for the right reasons this time, not for a lover , not for his kids, but for himself. He wanted to live one hundred percent sober, he wanted to confront and conquer his demons. His focus was now on being healthy, caring for himself, body mind and spirit, and being the best father to his three young children that he could be.

It was not easy, and the there were days he struggled, but when he did instead of turning to the powder, the bottle, or someone's bed, he picked up the phone called his sponsor Paul, attended a meeting, called a friend or family member, hit the gym, or cooked.

Food had become his passion again, Ste had just returned from a 3 week stint abroad studying traditional cuisine in both France and Italy under internationally renowned chefs.

Life was good he had been thinking, and then he encountered Myra.

Even though the village they lived in was small, Ste had not encountered his former in- laws in months, part of that was design, and part of that was he was busy- busy getting his life in order.

The last he had seen any of them had been months before, when as part of his recovery process he sought out those he had wronged when he was using and apologized for behavior that had caused pain.

That visit had been the last he had seen any of the McQueens, until he ran into Myra a week ago Saturday.

Ste had been shocked at her appearance, she had seemed tired and disheveled, eager to get away from him, he had asked her to tell John Paul, hello for him, and her eyes filled with tears.

Initially, his former mother-in-law had resisted, but Ste had insisted, and they went for a walk, coming to rest by The Arch, as the yellow leaves of autumn hit the water below, Ste learned that his former husband had cancer. The word had rocked him, sending all feelings of bliss to the pit of his stomach and forcing it up again, with what felt like a fist ramming into his gut.

Too many times in his life had that 6-letter devil, appeared in his life,and now that demon had reared it's head again striking at someone else he cared for.

He had wanted to run. Almost instantly ,the urges for his old ways of coping with distressing news came back to him,but he had suppressed them,and instead offered his support. As hard as it was for him, and whatever memories haunted his mind, Ste was determined he would be there in whatever way he could, whatever way he was allowed to be for the McQueens, for John Paul. Perhaps, he was attempting to atone for the past, perhaps he wanted to prove to himself that he could be there for another and not destroy himself in the process- Ste wasn't completely certain of his motives- when he offered his help to Myra.

That night he did not go to bed, unable to sleep. He had told himself to stay off Google, but going against his better judgment he typed the offending diagnosis into the search box-anaplastic large cell lymphoma, the results numbered in the thousands. Ste spent hours scouring the various links, until, at 4:00 am he forced himself to log off.

He didn't need more information, he now knew too much. The odds were in John Paul's favor and that's all Ste cared about. His ex was going to be okay, like his best friend and like his sister, he didn't need to know anymore, he wouldn't allow himself to consider the alternative.

Instead, he sat the alarm on his mobile to wake him in 3 hours, he wanted an early start, so he could finish his chores quickly and then go round to the McQueens.

The walk to his former in-laws house had shaken Ste, leaving him cold, he had drawn his coat closer to him even though the weather was quite warm for a mid autumn day.

He hesitated outside the front door, Myra had assured him a visit would be fine, and Ste had done his best to mentally prepare himself for what he may find. He rang the door bell, and a familiar female voice from the other side had welcomed him in with " It's open, let yourself in!". On the other side of the door,Nana McQueen had greeted him with a firm hug, and insisted that he join them for lunch. Ste had glanced around looking for John Paul. Mercedes had answered his unspoken question. with " He's upstairs. Tired- went for a walk , and to the park with Matthew this morning." That had been the only reference to his ex being ill that morning, things carried on as normal- as normal as things could be when visiting the home of the spouse you divorced. Little Matthew had been thrilled to see Ste, insisting they play together, and Ste was happy to oblige him.

In fact, he was down on the floor playing trains with the boy when John Paul finally made his way down stairs -5 hours after Ste had arrived. He hadn't meant to but he couldn't help staring, the difference was startling- and even though Ste had mentally prepared himself for it- seeing his former love down half a stone or more , gathering his pajamas at the waist to keep them from slipping, nearly bald, save a few wisps of hair shook Ste to the core. Ste lost his voice.

" I see you've heard." John Paul had offered.

Ste had nodded dumbly.

" Bad news is I look like a grandpa- bald head, slippers and all. Good news is it makes shouting at the neighbor kids more exciting, and I've been told I can have all the ice cream I want." John Paul had joked, and that had relieved Ste.

"JP. I'd come round earlier if I had known, you know that right. I'm so sor-"

" I know Ste. I didn't want a lot of fuss you know. Just want things to be normal- as normal as possible, mainly for him." he had gestured towards Matthew who was still playing, " And me as well... I can't go thinking I'm sick ,or then I really will be- you know?"

Ste nodded again,and had wanted to say something meaningful, and inspiring, but was coming up blank, he had stepped forward to hug him, but paused unsure if that would be appropriate.

John Paul had held his arms out to him " It's alright. I won't break you know. Come here."

The men had embraced, and after that nothing further was said, the rest of the day had passed as one would expect an afternoon with an old friend would.

One week later, Ste now sat on the McQueen sofa, football played on the telly and mixed with the sounds of music playing in the background and hushed voices in the kitchen.

His eyes danced from the flowered wall paper, to the orange and wine leaves hitting the window pane, to the tiny blue paper crane in his hand, and finally, to the man who slept beside him. John Paul had spent the majority of the last three days on the couch- treatment leaving him too weak to manage the stairs to his bedroom.

He was sleeping soundly for once, and Ste was glad for that. The last few days, his ex had trouble sleeping, and usually when he did fall asleep it didn't last long due to pain or nausea.

John Paul was barely recognizable: always thin, he was now nothing but skin and bones, and the golden hair that Ste had once lovingly ran his fingers through was now gone, even the tufts of hair that had existed only a week before had fallen leaving John Paul bald. Ste shivered at the thought, and suddenly the room felt far too chilled.

Ste reached for the gray fleece throw on the back of the sofa and began to spread the blanket over John Paul, thinking the green duvet covering him wasn't nearly enough to keep his frail body warm.

As Ste pat down the blanket , John Paul stirred, first rocking his head against the pillow behind him,then flinching his arms,and finally,fluttering his eyes.

Ste inwardly chided himself for waking him, true he had be sleeping 7 hours straight, but he needed his rest.

"Ssh, sorry it's alright, go back to sleep. I was just reaching for the remote." Ste soothed.

John Paul didn't go back to sleep, instead, he opened his eyes fully and yawned.

Even his eyes weren't as bright, Ste mentally noted.

"What's the score? Did I miss anything good?" he asked Ste, but before Ste could answer he shouted out

"Referee!"

Ste smiled softly to himself , at least in one way he was still the same old John Paul.

* * *

 **I've had this story on the shelf for a long while, figure I publish the first bit and see where it goes, not yet sure if I will continue.**


End file.
